Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Pushing the door inward, I stand there for a moment, allowing my eyes to acclimate to the dim lighting inside. The décor is straight out of a 60’s upscale restaurant. Except now it’s comes off as skeezy. The old-world tiling has lost its luster, and the paint on the walls has a thick coating of cigarette smoke. Even the chairs and tables look out of step with the world outside.
Walking toward the small waiting area, I poke my head around the corner to peek inside the dining area. As I thought, it’s half-full of old men, relics of the Soviet era. More than likely a few old KGB sitting there.
I watch as they all eat food slowly from their plates or take long drinks from glasses containing a clear alcohol. Vodka. They sure do love that shit.
Looking down to my bag, I grin. This should work out just like I want. I don’t give a shit if these old men are really connected to Alexei. I just want to fuck with his money operations, and I want him to know I don’t care about collateral damage. I’m just here to have a fucking good time while I hunt his dumbass.
I’ve got enough C-4 in the bag to level the whole building, and probably more than that. Haven’t used it in a long time, so my memory is a bit fuzzy on what kind of damage I’m getting ready to cause.
Kneeling down to the floor, I push the bag across the old world tile then grin as it quietly reaches about the midway mark of the dining room.
Standing up from where I’m crouching, I head back to the front door. Time to move.
And fuck.
Some little old lady is getting ready to come in the door.
Stepping quickly to the door, I flip the closed sign before I open it just enough to let myself out of the door.
Looking down at the woman, I give her a frown.
“Sorry, ma’am. I was just informed they’re closed for the day. Something about a gas leak from one of their grills,” I say, trying to be as unoffending as possible.
As small as Meghan is, this little old lady looks even tinier.
“That’s no good,” she says with a frown, looking past the door.
“No, ma’am, but better safe than sorry, I think.”
Turning to get her to move away from the door, I suggest, “How about I help you back to your car?”
“You’re a good boy. My grandson used to be, now he’s too busy for me,” she says with a sigh.
Reaching up, she takes my arm, and I slowly walk her toward the street light. “I’m sure he still thinks about you, though.”
“Bah, he thinks of me for my money. But I’m too smart to give it away,” she ends with a grin.
As we slowly cross the street, I look up to see Meghan gawking. Her eyes are as round as saucers as I wink at her.
“Thank you, young man,” the little lady says as we reach her car.
“My pleasure. As I said, better safe than sorry.”
Walking back to my truck, I wait until I hear the little old lady’s car take off down the street before I push the detonate button on the little device in my pocket.
The resounding concussion affect nearly knocks me off my feet as I jog over to the truck.
Hopping into the passenger side, I give Meghan a grin. “She was a really sweet woman. Said I remind her of an old movie star,” I say as I motion for her to start driving. “Time to go, babe. No need to stick around here any longer.
“Holy fucking shit,” Meghan mutters as she puts us the truck in drive and whips us out of the parking spot.
When a second booming sound goes off, I snicker. I wonder if that was a gas main.
13
Meghan
A huge cloud of smoke darkens the sky behind me. The street is littered with chunks of stone and other debris. People run out of the surrounding buildings with looks of shock and worry on their faces.
My foot presses hard on the gas and the engine of the truck rumbles as I race away from the scene of the explosion.
Once I’m a few blocks away, I manage to sneak a quick glance over at Gabriel.
He’s leaned back in his seat, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
I almost do a double take, but there’s so much traffic in front of me I’m afraid I’ll rear-end somebody.
How can he be so fucking relaxed? So fucking happy after what he just did?
My foot pushes harder on the gas, the need to get away from what’s behind me causing my heart to beat frantically.
When he talked about collateral damage, I stupidly assumed he was blowing something up with no one in it. But I know there were people in that restaurant. I watched him walk an old lady out for Christ’s sake!